


Contrappunto: Largo/Con slancio

by Elle_Nahiara



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, Love Confessions, M/M, Probably Wildly Inaccurate Terminology, Violins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 16:24:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20067025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elle_Nahiara/pseuds/Elle_Nahiara
Summary: Tsukishima and Yamaguchi move and play the violin in different ways. They have ever since they were kids.Now, they are tasked to play something together





	Contrappunto: Largo/Con slancio

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so you can probably google most of these things but you don't have to:
> 
> First, Vivaldi's Seasons are very well known pieces of music. They are divided into four, called after the seasons. Each season piece is divided into three parts. Also, each season has a sonnet that talks about the general feeling of the season.
> 
> Pizzicato is a way of playing in which, instead of using the bow to play the instrument, you strum/pluck the instrument with your fingers. Now, I'm only guessing here because I've never played the violin, but since pizzicato produces ' short and percussive rather than sustained' (thank you Wikipedia) sounds, it occurs to me that it could be used in fast songs.
> 
> Now, my wild Italian title. Basically:  
Contrappunto = counterpoint (basically, a type of duet where two rhythmically/melodically/lyrically different melodies are joined by harmony.) [This piece from Sweeney Todd](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=weQYdrnabyE) is a counterpoint quartet  
... supposedly... I don't... really know. The internet tells me it is.  
Largo = 'broadly'. At a slow pace. I wanted to put maestoso (majestically) but largo in Spanish (my native tongue) means 'long' and I couldn't resist  
Con slancio = with enthusiasm

They walked at wildly different speeds, they moved in different ways.

When they were kids, it made more sense. Tsukishima's strides were long like his legs. Yamaguchi trotted, trying to keep up. Tsukishima was slow and assured. Yamaguchi was quick and jumpy. 

Their playing was very much like that, as well. When Tsukishima grabbed his violin, he was serene and precise. Yamaguchi, in the meanwhile, was nervous and agile. Tsukishima’s posture was ideal, Yamagui’s _ pizzicato _playing was his forte. Tsukishima’s critiques? Languiness. Yamaguchi’s? Agitation.

It seemed to Yamaguchi that Tsukishima was so skilled, so poised, so beautiful. His fingers and lashes long, his eyes half-lidded, a slight frown. That cold concentration that assured Yamaguchi that, despite his playing looking so effortless, his friend was giving it his all.

And Yamaguchi? Yamaguchi found it so hard not to be self-conscious when he played. So when their teacher tasked them with finding a piece to adapt into a duet, Yamaguchi thought _ There’s no way I can do this. I’m going to ruin Tsukki’s performance. _

“So…” Tsukishima said, as they walked home that day. “I know it’s cliché, but, what do you think of Vivaldi?”

“Uh?” Yamaguchi jumped out of his thoughts.

“Homework?” Tsukishima said, raising his eyebrows a bit.

“Oh! Oh, right. One of the Seasons?”

“Yeah, I mean. It’s very typical but if we need to adapt it, it’s better to have something that we know well.”

“Which one?”

“Hm, you choose?”

“But that’s a lot of pressure!” he complained, regretting it instantly.

Nonetheless, Tsukishima nodded. “Fine, fine. We’ll choose together.”

They were already going for something well known, but they decided not to completely cop-out by going with _ Spring _ . Everyone knew _ Spring _. 

“Plus it’s too… cheerful.” Tsukishima commented, as he laid back on his bed. His expression told Yamaguchi that he considered ‘cheerful’ something _ very _bad.

Yamaguchi laughed, shaking his head a bit. “Of course it is.”

“Even the sonnet that comes with it is so… cheesy.” Tsukishima kept a level voice, but it was obvious he was defending himself.

Yamaguchi rolled his eyes fondly. 

Tsukishima insisted. “Seriously, all the others are like: this season has good things and bad things. But _ Spring _is just… “

“Like Hinata?”

Tsukishima grimaced at the mention of their classmate. “Yeah.”

Yamaguchi laughed. “You are mean.”

“We know that, Yamaguchi.”

With a snort, Yamaguchi went back to business. “Well, I feel _ Autumn _is kind of the next most well known.”

“Sounds too much like _ Spring _.”

“Like slightly edgier _ Spring, _in the fun part. Right.”

Tsukishima smiled faintly at the wording. “Edgier _ Spring _, huh?”

“... Don’t ever tell anyone that I said that. They’ll get my head for it.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have said it, Yamaguchi. Ever thought about it?”

Yamaguchi threw a pillow at him. 

“Hey, careful with the glasses.” Tsukishima replied.

“Oh, sorry, I-” and then he got hit in the face with the pillow. “Tsukki!”

“Caught you off-guard.”

Yamaguchi huffed. “Anyway, what about_ Summer _?”

“It’s kind of cool, I guess? I hate summer, though.”

“I think Vivaldi did too, honestly.”

Tsukishima looked at him, curious. “You don’t like it?”

“It’s… kind of… I don’t know. Not boring, of course, but it’s kind of…”

“‘’Meh’?” 

Yamaguchi nodded. “Meh.”

“_ Winter _ it is.”

“Good. _ Allegro non molto _ , _ Largo _ or _ Allegro _?”

Tsukishima groaned. “Ugh, why is classical music like that. So long.”

Yamaguchi snorted and, under his breath, said: “Why are _ you _ so long.”

Tsukishima glared. “I heard that.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s not?” Tsukishima asked, looking at him from the mattress.

Yamaguchi scowled, a bit confused. “Why would it be? Girls like it.”

“I don’t like girls, though.”

“Oh, right. A lot of guys like it too.” Yamaguchi offered, instantly. This was weird. Was Tsukishima insecure about his appearance now? Since when?

“Mh,” Tsukishima said, and then followed with. “The _ Largo _section is too calm and boring. Also short.”

“Okay, not that, then.” Yamaguchi said, and just when Tsukishima seemed to be back to normal, Yamaguchi added: “You wanted to say something else, did you not?”

“Nope,” Tsukishima said, without missing a beat. He had obviously prepared that answer.

“You did.”

“Oh, well, I forgot it.”

“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi prodded him with a finger. 

Tsukishima lightly smacked his hand away. “Stop that.”

“You are lying.”

Tsukishima huffed. “I was just thinking… what do you base yourself on to say that?”

Yamaguchi blinked. “What do I base myself on to say that some guys like tall guys?”

“Yeah,” Tsukishima was not looking at him.

“What.”

“I’m just asking.”

“What does that even mean, Tsukki?! Do you want me to find a paper on it or something? I can’t carry out a study on guys’ preferences for guys! I’m a violinist, not a scientist!”

“Then you are just guessing.”

Yamaguchi gave Tsukishima a stern look, but it soon disappeared. Tsukishima looked actually serious. “I am not.”

“Then what are you basing yourself on? How could you know?”

It was Yamaguchi’s turn to look away. “I mean, you-... what.” He fumbled for an answer.

“How can you know what a guy who likes guys likes?” Tsukishima asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

Yamaguchi rolled his eyes. “I _ am _a guy who likes guys, Tsukki!”

Tsukishima turned to look at him so quickly, Yamaguchi was worried it had hurt. “You _ what _?”

Yamaguchi was confused. “What?”

“_ You _ like _ guys _ ? Since _ when? _”

“Since… years? You… didn’t know?!” Yamaguchi asked, totally bewildered.

“You had a crush on Yachi!” It was unusual to hear Tsukishima’s voice rise, even if only a bit.

“You… that was years ago!”

“It still happened,” Tsukishima muttered, apparently annoyed by the memory of how love-struck Yamaguchi had been for the small cellist. His incessant fawning about how she was so cute and small and how she looked even smaller behind her instrument.

“Th-that doesn’t mean I can’t like guys!”

“Well, you didn’t say you did when I came out to y-”

Yamaguchi huffed. “We were twelve by then, Tsukki! Not everyone figures their sexuality out by twelve.”

Tsukishima seemed to grant him that. “Why didn’t you mention it afterwards?”

“It… just… never seemed like a good time.” So far, his liking guys was so completely linked to how absolutely gone he was for Tsukishima, that it just seemed impossible to mention one without the other.

Tsukishima paused, nodded, and laid back down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Anyway, I feel the _ allegro non molto _is the most interesting part,” Yamaguchi mumbled.

“Agreed,” Tsukishima said, and then there was a pause. “So…”

Yamaguchi looked at him. “So?”

Tsukishima was not looking back. “What’s your type?”

Yamaguchi blinked, then blushed furiously. “Have _ I _ever asked you that?”

“No.”

“Then-”

“Irrelevant, who says I wouldn’t have answered. You just did not ask because you were anxious.”

Yamaguchi narrowed his eyes. “Why would I-”

“I don’t know. But you usually are.”

Scoffing, Yamaguchi rolled his eyes yet again, face still burning.

Tsukishima waited a long while before pressing: “Are you going to answer?”

“Only if you do first.”

There was silence, and then Tsukishima sat up. “So the first section from _ Winter, _ then?”

Despite how relieved Yamaguchi was, he could not help but feel… slightly disappointed as well.

Tsukishima could not get the fast parts of _ Winter _right. No matter how much they rehearsed, his fingers just seemed to lack the speed necessary.

It was, really, not that difficult. He did it easily at home. But it didn’t feel _ right _ with Yamaguchi there.The arrangement they had come up with was a bit of a call-and-response, and it was pretty decent, but the problem, the big problem was that Tsukisima was the call. And when he began playing the difficult parts, he often caught a glimpse of Yamaguchi’s face.

Yamaguchi was such an _ idiot. _

The anxiety was so obvious in his friend’s face, as he listened, that Tsukishima felt it was his moral obligation to mess up. If he did not, Yamaguchi would. And then Yamaguchi would grow more and more anxious.

So _ stupid. _

Tsukishima had often found Yamaguchi rehearsing alone, until late, in the randomest of places. Places where, Tsukishima suspected, Yamaguchi did not expect to be found.

And there, there Yamaguchi tackled far more difficult pieces. And he did it with his eyes closed and the prettiest purse of his lips. With an intensity and connection that Tsukishima knew he would never, ever achieve, but that made even him stare and catch his breath.

It was conflicting, and thus, Tsukishima never mentioned it. Of course, there was the acceptable explanation, the one he told others when they found him like that: “If you tell him, he’ll grow nervous when playing on his own. It’s better to let him be.”

But Tsukishima knew himself to not be that good of a person. As he made the others leave, he was, yes, thinking of Yamaguchi’s feelings. But also, there was that sick, revolting thought: That he was afraid. He was afraid of Yamaguchi being caught like this. For him to awaken the same longing in someone else. 

They might actually do something about it, unlike Tsukishima. Stupid, actively-pining-since-he-was-twelve Tsukishima.

And Tsukishima could not stand the thought, yet. He knew he would eventually have to, but not yet.

_ Not yet. _

One day, Tsukishima stopped playing during their rehearsal. Out of the blue. And he blurted it out:

“You should play the first part.”

Yamaguchi, looking at him with wide, terrified eyes, shook his head. “Tsukki, I-”

“You should.”

“No I shouldn’t! I can barely do it after you!”

“Because you freak yourself out,” Tsukishima argued. Yamaguchi opened his mouth. “I know you do. You look at me and you start doubting yourself.”

Yamaguchi blinked. They usually didn’t talk like that, calling each other out. The few times it had happened, it had been Yamaguchi calling Tsukishima out. “That-”

“Yamaguchi. You know it’s true.”

“B-but what if I mess it up? Then…”

“Then it happens. But it won’t.”

“It might.”

Tsukishima scoffed, and Yamaguchi recoiled. “Fine, it might. But so what. It’s a _ test, _not an actual concert. We are the ones paying for classes. So what if we mess up?”

“What about… your grades?”

“My grades can take it.” Before Yamaguchi could say it, Tsukishima added: “And so can yours.”

“B-but-”

“Can we at least try it?”

“I-” Yamaguchi sighed. “Fine.”

And so they did. 

And it _ worked. _

The first few times were a mess. Yamaguchi would look at Tsukishima worriedly, screw up the timing. But after the few initial times, and some rare encouragement and patience from Tsukishima, he got that determined expression. The fire in his eyes.

And, here was the thing. Once Yamaguchi began to get into it, Tsukishima felt the need to match him, to catch up with him.

To not be left behind.

And he played with more than ease. He played with _ enthusiasm. _

He needed to match him. 

_ There’s no way I can do this _ turned to _ We did it _, once Yamaguchi put the violin down and his classmates’ cheering began ringing in his ears.

“What was that! I didn’t know you could play like that!” 

Yamaguchi flushed at the praise from everyone. From the teacher, from his classmates. From other people who had come just to hear. Nishinoya, Tanaka, Yachi, etc. All praising Yamaguchi.

But, in his head, Yamaguchi would still recall, first and foremost, Tsukishima’s face the first time they had managed to go through a clean run. His exhilarated smile, his soft but sincere laughing.

“We did it,” Tsukishima had said then.

Tsukishima saw Yamaguchi flush at the praise, and sighed. Well, they had done. And now everyone knew how fantastic he was.

For some reason, it did not hurt as much, even as he overheard some girls later, talk to each other:

“I didn’t know...Tsukishima’s friend could play like that.”

“His name’s Yamaguchi! And I didn’t know either, but…”

“He’s kind of cute, right?”

“Yeah!”

Instead of worrying him, that little fire in him -the one that Yamaguchi had lit- burned brighter.

And just like that, just like that.

Like hell he would let some random person get Yamaguchi without even some competition.

_ Not yet _ turned to _ Now. _

Tsukishima went back to Yamaguchi and Yamaguchi smiled at him. 

Tsukishima smiled softly back.

“Well done. I’ll buy you fries.”

They sat at the McDonald’s. Not the most appropriate place, yet it would do.

And immediately, almost as if he had been expecting it for hours (he had, for years), Tsukishima spoke:

“Remember when I asked you about your type?”

Yamaguchi, who had just shoved some fries into his mouth, swallowed after a moment. “Yeah. Uh.”

“And you refused to answer?”

“So did you. Uh, Tsukki?”

“I’m ready to answer.”

A moment of silence. “Well, I’m not.”

“You don’t have to.”

“You don’t have to either.”

“I want to.” 

“Tsukki, can this wait?”

“No.”

“I just feel it’s not the moment.”

“I feel it is.”

“Please just-”

“It won’t take long.”

“Fine, but I don’t w-”

“It’s you.”

The exchanged stopped, just like that. A screeching halt.

And then, Yamaguchi blinked slowly. “Sorry, what?”

And Tsukishima’s weird confidence shattered. “I… uh, no, I-”

“No, no, no. Repeat it.”

“I-”

“_ Tsukki _.”

“No, you were right. It’s not the-”

“_ Tsukishima Kei.” _

Tsukishima flinched, but said nothing.

“Did you just say I’m your type.”

“I… yes,” his voice was small.

“How can a person be a-”

Tsukishima gritted his teeth. “_Yamaguchi.” _

“How long.”

“Yamaguchi, cut it out.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know. I realized when I was twelve.”

“Twe- Tsukki! Holy shit!”

Suddenly ashamed, Tsukishima stood up. No, he was not going to sit there and be mocked.

And then Yamaguchi laughed, but his laughter lacked any of that meanness that, he knew, Yamaguchi was -secretly- capable of. 

Tsukishima looked down at him, and then Yamaguchi looked up at him, his smile so warm that it felt like a smack to the face.

“Tsukki, sit down?”

And Tsukishima did it so. And then Yamaguchi reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers.

“Wh- wha-” Tsukishima stammered uncharacteristically.

“You beat me by three years,” he muttered. “Sorry.”

Tsukishima took a moment to realize what that meant. “It’s fine. It was worth waiting for,” he muttered.

Even when Yamaguchi had hit his impressive growth spur, he still walked differently from Tsukishima. Stopping to point out dogs, or rushing forward to something he was excited to see.

But it was never a problem. Despite the mismatch, it was rare after the first few times, to see them walking in any other way than side by side. If they lost synchrony, it was easily recovered.

It was even easier now, as they walked hand in hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!  
My twitter is Elle_Nahiara, my tumblr aheartfullofyoi  
I'm in a rush publishing this for I have to get out of my house soon lol
> 
> Hope you had fun


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